


easily

by wonderlou



Series: Alpha/Beta/Omega [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg, Nesting, alpha!Harry, here's the sequel baby, omega!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlou/pseuds/wonderlou
Summary: sequel to I found a love for me (darling just dive right in);years later, Harry and Louis are as strong as ever and more than ready to take the next step in the story of their lives. It gets a little weird, a little confusing, but at the end of the day, it is as easy as can be.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys!!! lol I promised you all that I would be back during spring break and here I am! this is a small collection of what could kind of maybe be referred to as a bunch of one shots, but they all fit together obviously. they're pretty short, no chapter is particularly long, but the good news is that there will probably be even more to it later on I don't know, depends in if you'd really like to see it, because I do this for me but I also do it for you always. Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think!
> 
> if you're new, I wrote the first part to this series a while back, so you can check that out if you want a bit more context.
> 
> Thanks! Much love!!!

      The last time Harry had gone out of town, it had only been for three days. Louis had missed him like he missed him every morning when they parted to go to work, but it had been entirely bearable, just like all those other times. He had been alone in their apartment, which was always unideal and sometimes a little scary when he let his mind wander far enough away from reality and truth, but he still had Harry with him; he always made sure he did. He’d wrapped himself in Harry’s clothing and he’d made the man call him whenever he could and he’d stayed up at night until he knew that Harry was going to sleep, too.

      Three days were nothing.

      A week was something else.

      Harry had been nervous to leave Louis alone for so long, Louis had been able to tell, but the omega had all but begged Harry to leave, because it was important for his job and the last thing he wanted was to be _that person_ who held their loved one back from something that they needed to do because of the simple discomfort of being alone. Harry hadn’t put up much of a fight, thankfully, but he still ran through his plan for the week with Louis a few times before he’d gone, telling him when his flight would depart and when he would get back, what time he expected to be home, all the times he’d likely be free for a phone call. It was the start of the summer, so school was out for Louis’ students, meaning he’d be in the house with almost nothing to do. Louis felt that he could make the most of it while his brood of an alpha was out of town and wouldn’t be around to milk his attention.

      It had gone well for the three days that he was used to. Within that time, he deep cleaned their living room as well as the kitchen, and he did all of the laundry. He went grocery shopping and took his car to get maintenanced. He visited his sisters, taking them all to a pool party that friends from their school were throwing. He kept himself busy even though it was continuously hard to sleep at night, for there was no pressure along his back and no one to curl into or wake up and shuffle closer to when the air conditioning kicked in and it got cold.

      Early in the morning on the fourth day, Louis had a bad dream that caused him waking up in a sweat, rushing to the bathroom and throwing up due to worked up nerves and momentary fear. He stayed up watching television for the rest of the early hours, eventually falling back asleep when the sun came up.

      On the fifth day, their next door neighbor came to spend a couple of hours with Louis. He already knew that Harry had asked Michael to check in on him while he was away, but Louis was grateful for it, happy with a beta’s scent even if it wasn’t Niall’s, his best friend thirty minutes away nearly in a different town. Louis made lunch and thought about Harry so consistently that he had barely taken a bite out of his food. He’d cried the second Michael was gone, however, because Harry’s scent was starting to fade from his clothes and he had not gone so long without the alpha before. But he sucked it up and went to bed early so he didn’t have to _feel_ anything.

      On the sixth day, Louis got sick again, crying over the toilet bowl because all he wanted to do was call Harry, but the alpha had meetings from early in the morning to late in the afternoon and Louis didn’t want to pester him. He built a little nest that he hid in until he grew hungry, and when Harry called that night, Louis blossomed like a flower, butterflies in his stomach and happy tears slipping down his cheeks which he hid by pretending to grab something from the other side of the room while his phone stayed on the bed.

      “I miss you, my angel,” Harry had said, voice gruff and sleepy. He’d hit his last growth spurt right after their high school graduation and was now so tall, and had the deepest voice, the largest hands, the warmest hugs.

      “I miss you, too,” Louis had replied, his body aching with the weight of his words. “Can’t wait ‘til tomorrow.”

      Harry could only agree.

      The next day was one of the most anxious days of Louis’ life. Harry’s flight was at three in the afternoon, and he was due to be back by five, and Louis was already preparing dinner for them, including all of Harry’s favorite foods. He had music playing because their apartment was too quiet without it, and the kitchen smelled nice, like spices and pork chops and the muffins Louis had placed in the oven just a little while ago.

      He felt _okay_. He was excited for Harry’s return, and he was exhausted from him being gone for so long, from so many restless nights where his body lay confused. He had held out, though, which he was proud of, so his accomplishment put a pep in his step as he danced subtly around the kitchen.

      At two-thirty, his phone rang, and he lunged for it, accepting the call and tucking the device between his ear and shoulder so he could keep working. “Hi, Haz,” he sang, poking at the frying pork chops with a metal fork. “I’m cooking for you. If only you could smell it through the phone. I know it’s early, but I want everything to be perfect.”

      “Yeah?” Harry chuckled amusedly, but also a little sadly, and it was then that Louis’ stomach lurched, already sensing something that was going to put a dent in his mood. “There’s a little bit of a delay with my plane, dear, so I probably won’t be home until around seven.”

      “Oh.” Louis gnawed at his lip as a wave of something harsh and bitter overcame him. “Okay. Uh. That’s okay. Seven is a little late for dinner, but that’s okay. I’ll have it warm and ready for us still.” He forced a smile onto his lips, and he hoped that his words both sounded cheery enough for Harry to believe it and to convince his own brain that everything was okay. Everything had to be _okay_.

      “Are you alright?” Harry asked anyway, concern subtle, now, but quickly growing. “I’m so sorry, Lou. I know it’s been so long. I hate being away from you for _so long._ ”

      “It’s okay!” It came out a little forced. Louis set down his fork and wiped his palms on his pajama pants, taking a deep breath. “God, I just miss you so much. But I’ve lasted a week, so I can surely last a couple extra hours.”

      “That’s right,” Harry said lowly, his slow smile evident in his voice. A series of sounds came from far off on the other end of the phone, chunks of chatter and conversation, and Harry quickly returned back to the phone, his voice deep and loud but perfectly modified to be gentle just for Louis. “We’re going to go grab something to eat, my love, but I’ll text you before I get on the plane.”

      “Okay,” Louis breathed. “I love you.”

      “I love you more.” Harry hung up.

      Louis cried a little bit, but not into the food he was making.

      At six thirty, Louis set the dinner table, even lighting a few candles because Harry’s return was a special sort of occasion. He turned the lights down low and changed into one of Harry’s shirts that was actually clean and not part of his nest, and then he sat and waited, wanting Harry to open the door to a surprise.

      At seven, there was nothing. At seven- _thirty,_  the candle wax had long since melted into soupy, hot liquid, and the green beans were cold. At eight, Harry called, and Louis felt numb as he answered the phone, fingers shaking, gaze focused on the empty chair in front of him.

      “I’m sorry,” was the first thing that Harry said, something to which Louis had no response to, because it wasn’t as _okay_ as it had been before. “The client we came to see– he wanted to spend another night just in the town, not working, you know, and I– it’s not something I can say no to, Lou, he’s one of our biggest clients. You understand. Please tell me you understand.”

      “Sure,” Louis murmured, looking down at the wood of the table as salty tears blurred his vision. He _did_ understand, or at least wanted to, even when his heart crumbled in his chest, turning into fine dust and losing itself in other parts of his body. He cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck. He shifted in his seat and hoped a sob didn’t slip free when he asked: “When– when will you be home, do you think?”

      “Early on Sunday?” Harry huffed out a sigh. “I’ll get home as soon as possible. I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”

       _Sunday_. That was two extra days. Louis couldn’t do it. He hadn’t been apart from Harry for so long ever before, and every minute more made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t feel like himself, not without his other half. He did not feel real.

      “Louis?”

      “I’m fine,” Louis whispered, lightheaded. “I can do it.”

      “I’m sorry I can’t be there to eat your dinner,” Harry mumbled with regret. “I’m sure it’s so good. Eat lots for me, okay?”

      Louis wasn’t going to eat any of it. In fact, he just wanted to vomit. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I will.” Tears brimmed at his waterline more vigorously and he knew his voice was going to crack if he lied again, so he licked his lips, closed his eyes, and said, “I’ve got to go.”

      “Louis–”

      “I’ll see you on Sunday. Be safe.” He hung up before Harry could say anything else. He blew out the candles, left the food on the table to grow colder, and trudged upstairs so slowly that he felt like he was floating, slipping away from everything, lost and hopeless without the one who hadn’t left his side for so long after _years_ of being together, almost always attached by the hip. He got in bed and could not even cry, too tired to do it and body so exhausted from so much of it, so he just stared at the wall with his form curled in on itself as tightly as he could manage. But his own arms did not come close to holding him as well as Harry’s did.

 

//

 

      At seven o’clock on Sunday morning, Louis was still in bed, shaking underneath the covers, caught between fighting sleep and tumbling completely and irrevocably into it. His nest was not helping to relieve his stress, not at all, but there was nothing he can do about it, for none of Harry’s things smelled like him, not anymore. So he merely sat there, and rushed to the bathroom when he worried himself into throwing up. He brushed his teeth with his eyes staring into his own reflection, and when sticky bile was replaced by minty, refreshing toothpaste, he made his way back to his bed, sleep schedule thrown off balance, but his body still screaming for rest.

      At eight o’clock, he heard a car door slam to a close. As if jump started with weak energy, Louis scrambled out of bed and tripped on his way down the hallway, sobs tearing at his throat as he watched the door handle twist with its lock being worked at. The door opened, and Harry appeared, tall and radiating warmth as well as the scent of fresh rainfall. and Louis nearly collapsed to the ground, staggering against the wall as he cried.

      “Baby,” Harry called, surprised and clearly worried as he hauled his suitcase through the threshold only to toss it dismissively to the side, letting it clunk onto the carpet as he made his way over to Louis, arms closing around him so tightly, lifting him into his arms. In retaliation, Louis wrapped his legs as tightly around Harry’s hips as he could manage, digging his head into the crook of his alpha’s neck and taking desperate, ragged breaths, starving for his rainy scent, his hands on his body. “Oh, my angel,” Harry whispered, hugging him close, large hands sliding up and down his back. “I know, I’m so sorry, I know. You’re shaking, darling. Please calm down for me.”

      Louis could not. He was hysterical, fingers pushing through Harry’s hair, gripping at the curls as if he was trying to say something that wouldn’t leave his mouth in any comprehensible form. He choked on his tears and wailed and bit at Harry’s neck, hoping to mark him as quickly and efficiently as possible to reclaim him as his own as if he had lost him.

      “You’re okay, Louis, I’m here,” Harry said, voice so far away from Louis’ mind. He carried Louis shaking body down the hall, holding him so gently, and Louis was dead weight, falling apart, chest tight as if someone was sitting on it. Harry was gentle as he sat on their bed right in the middle of Louis’ messy nest, with Louis still wrapped around him, wishing he were one with him.

      “I missed you so _fucking_ much,” Louis screamed, heartbroken, squeaking when Harry squeezed him tighter as if he was trying to push out all of Louis’ negative thoughts. It was working, but so very slowly. “I cooked all that food for you, and no one ate it, I just wanted you home, Harry.” He struggled to take a deep breath, and he pulled his head out of the crook of Harry’s neck in order to look at him, to read the dismay on his face, the concern in his deep green eyes. “Gotta feel you, Harry,” he begged, fingers scrambling at the button up that Harry was wearing, dying for more touch. “ _Please._ ”

      “Okay, Lou,” Harry complied softly, rolling his shoulders so Louis could wrestle his shirt off of him, and then his hands were underneath Louis’ own shirt, his touch burning hot as they slid up, and up, bringing the tee up with him until it was over Louis’ head and tossed aimlessly onto the bed beside them. “Whatever you need. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that to you again, not ever, I swear.”

      “It made me _sick,_ ” Louis gasped, dragging his mouth against Harry’s hotly, kissing him with no precision nor focus. He rocked his hips back and forth, and back and forth again, his body craving Harry’s, and Harry’s catching on in return, hands sliding down to his back and to his backside, where he drew him nearer, until Louis felt him through his jeans. “Every time I thought about how far away you were from me, I couldn’t take it. Kept throwing up.”

      “Oh, Lou.” Harry kissed down his neck, teeth scraping along the scar he had left there so many years ago. Louis shivered, and it wracked his entire body. “I should have been here. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home.”

      “You were on business– didn’t wanna ruin it for you.” Louis’ fingers scrambled with Harry’s jeans, and it was a complicated process getting them off; they settled for getting them just past his bottom, at his thighs, so Louis could reach down and grab his cock, licking the palm of his hand before wrapping it around Harry firmly. It was rushed, and Louis couldn’t leave Harry alone long enough for much preparation to be made, but Harry urged Louis’ boxers down just enough so that he could get to his bottom, and to his asshole, which was desperate and loose, already damp. He slipped one finger in easily, low rumbles building up in his throat, and Louis rocked back needily on it, unsatisfied until Harry added another, wrist bent up at an odd angle as he scissored the two.

      “Gonna take my knot, baby?” Harry breathed lightly, kissing Louis’ shoulder. Louis keened and nodded, just the thought causing him to groan, and Harry hummed. “I know you are, you’re always so good. Gonna make it up to you, okay? Gonna fuck you till you forget I was gone. Gonna take care of you.” He added a third finger, just to be sure, but Louis sat up off of them after a short while, impatient and a little shaky again. He took Harry’s cock, fit it behind him, and wasted no time in sinking down onto it, a meek cry leaving his lips before Harry shushed him with his own, licking into his mouth for encouragement.

      Their pace started and remained slow and gentle, a contrast against the hasty way they had connected again. The morning sun was slipping through the blinds and the room was a nice, baby blue, and Louis clutched Harry so closely, resting his cheek on the man’s head as he gradually lifted himself up and down on his lap, riding the alpha with calm, languid rocks of his hips. Harry didn’t rush it, hands on Louis’ hips, merely guiding him along, whispering into his skin. He was done with the apologies, it seemed, and took to merely praising Louis, sweetening his skin with kisses and compliments about how good he felt, about how much he was missed, about how he was everything that there ever was or would be.

      “I love you,” Louis slurred through tears, hiccuping when Harry rocked his hips up helpfully, assisting in rubbing Louis’ prostate slowly and pleasurably. He felt exponentially calmer, more grounded, and he never would have thought a cock in him would do such a thing, but he was not complaining. But it was _Harry;_  they were together again, finally, and nothing felt better than that. It was more than sex: it’s a reunion, renewal of the very contact they had gone so long without. It was _necessary._ It was _them._  “Yeah, Haz, like that,” he murmured, rotating his hips, shaky fingers tangling in Harry’s curls. “Slow, slow, wanna feel.”

      Harry obeyed. It was so good, and so easy, the way they worked together, the way they moved together, giving and taking in equal parts, Louis’ legs bent tightly around Harry’s thighs, seated firmly in his lap, with Harry’s arms keeping them fastened together. Louis had _missed this_ – missed his lips burning his flesh and his scent surrounding him relentlessly. “So perfect,” Harry murmured, the words getting lost in Louis’ neck, and Louis smiled into his hair, sniffling. “Can I lay down, little omega? Want you on my chest, gonna give it to you.”

      “Yes, yeah,” Louis grit out, shifting in Harry’s lap as Harry leaned back on the bed, hands reaching down to cup Louis’ ass, squeezing the flesh as Louis’ own hands came up to hold the sides of Harry’s face. With that, Harry began thrusting up into him with long strides, just as slow but deeper, cockhead stroking nicely over Louis’ prostate. It was repetitive, and sent Louis into a tizzy, to the point where spots danced behind his eyes and he struggled to keep them open. “Fuck,” he whined quietly, rocking back onto Harry, bouncing again, toes curling with the friction of his cock between their bellies. “Gonna come, H, oh my God.”

      “Go ‘head,” Harry moaned out. If this were any other form of sex, Harry probably would have spanked him in the way he did when he was trying to egg Louis on, but now he merely ran his fingers up Louis’ back, fingertips teasing the notches of his spine. They curved around to his waist, thumbs pressing into his stomach with gentle pressure. “C’mon, Lou, know you can do it without even a hand on you.”

      Louis could. He had before. He _would_. “Uh-huh,” he agreed, eyebrows furrowed, and as soon as he and Harry locked eyes, he came, the feeling rocking his body, crashing into him to the point where his thighs shook, fingernails digging just slightly into Harry’s cheeks. He cried out a little bit, and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to Harry’s.

      “Good boy,” Harry breathed, and the tightness of his voice suggested his impending release, too. “Always so good, you listen to me so well, Lou. Gonna knot you soon.”

      Louis’ orgasm had only made him more tired, but that did not stop him from coaxing Harry into his own release, shimmying his hips and rolling them until the alpha’s knot swelled and locked within, filling Louis with a pressure that settled low in his tummy. They both groaned, breathing evenly yet a little heavily, lips finding each other once more for a leisure, steady kiss.

      “Thank you,” Louis panted, pressing a kiss to Harry’s nose. Tremors were left behind in his hands, and he curled his fingers absentmindedly. “Needed it. Needed you.”

     “Anything,” Harry replied, and it was not a full response, but Louis understood it. Halfheartedly, they cleaned up the mess between their bellies, which was a little difficult due to their connection, and then they laid together, pressing stray kisses to whatever skin they can manage, fingers touching around, familiarizing themselves once more with each other’s bodies. “Won’t ever leave you like that again.”

      Louis believed him with his entire being and fell asleep with it, too.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis is(n't) pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys I know it's super not great that this chapter isn't really long, but quality over quantity hopefully???? maybe??? idk. you guys are all so sweet though and I love your comments, they light up my world. sooo with that said please enjoy this chapter that I had a hoot and a half writing.

      Louis was pregnant. Harry was almost positive of it, confident enough to the point where he would have gladly bet off a significant amount of money for it. He had been worried to go on his business trip because of this idea, because the day that he’d gone, Louis had been so _different,_ so beautifully _odd_ that morning when they’d woken up next to each other. His scent had muted drastically and he had a different aura to him as he’d rolled onto his belly and had nosed against his pillow, opening one eye as if he would be able to fall back asleep but still see what Harry was up to.

      Harry had had a flight to catch, so he hadn’t had time to investigate any further, having had to rely solely on the _feeling_ he got whenever he glanced at Louis and analyzed him for seconds at a time. Louis was acting ordinary aside from the copious amounts of cuddly petulance he gained every morning, heightened due to the fact that he was leaving, so he’d set aside his interest, kissing his omega goodbye before heading off to the airport.

      He hadn't been able to shake the feeling throughout the entire trip. When he had returned, the house was tense with anxiety and stress and something _else_ , something small and foreign that hadn’t been apparent in the years that they’d been together, nor in the months that they had shared this apartment. It was then that Harry’s suspicions had grown a little more sure, and after his heartbreak at the sight of his touch-starved, lonely omega, he marked his inclination as _true_. Louis had to be pregnant.

      Louis slept until the afternoon that Sunday, but Harry was up long before, having gotten a full night of rest at the hotel on top of having napped on the plane. On the other hand, Louis, the poor thing, was exhausted, and Harry could tell as much by the way he slept, still as if he was dead, snoring gently into the pillow. He was bundled in the remains of the nest he had made some time within the week where Harry had been gone; Harry had placed him there after he’d cleaned him up and dressed him in new underwear. While Louis rested, Harry sat on the corner of the bed and watched him, eyes narrowed, focusing on his omega.

      The nest was one of the determining factors of his pregnancy. He knew that Louis had been stressed, but he also knew that omegas nested when there was a baby on the way. Louis could not be that far along, maybe a couple of weeks at best, but that was all that was needed for the body to react accordingly, preparing the first moment that it could. The throwing up was also a factor; Louis had coined that on stress, too. While Harry did not doubt it, he knew better than anyone that Louis was clueless sometimes, and often had his thoughts on other things that didn’t include himself. He was confident that Louis had not been paying enough attention to himself to realize that he was pregnant, but Louis was all that had ever been on Harry’s brain, so he liked to think that he was very familiar with him.

      Louis being pregnant wasn’t even close to a problem. In fact, Harry was ecstatic about it, because Louis had gotten off of his birth control a few months ago when they had sat down and agreed that they were ready to see what the universe gave them, ready to try their luck, and they had gotten a simple apartment because of it. It was an easy, quaint two-bedroom, a perfect starting point for their pod of a family. It was placed in a quiet town where they could both get to work without trouble, next to a park where kids often played and squealed loudly. It was all so fantastic.

      The only problem was that Harry was also positive that Louis didn’t know he was pregnant, and that was something he did not really know how to handle. Louis was bright, one of the brightest people Harry had ever been blessed to meet, but sometimes he was slow, wonderfully clueless, funnily so. Harry could manage an omega who wondered where his clothes were when they’d been in the dryer for twenty minutes, but he was not sure where he could have obtained the information as to how to break it to a pregnant omega that he was, in fact, a pregnant omega.

      Louis woke up naturally at four in the afternoon, grumbling to himself before he even opened his eyes, likely unable to handle the sun easing through the blinds any longer. When he did not immediately sense Harry beside him, he seemed to jerk a little bit, turning his head until his gaze fell upon Harry sitting at the end of the bed, legs criss-crossed and elbows on his knees, jaw in his hands. Harry gave him a small wave, and Louis fell forward into the mattress with relief.

      “What’re you doing?” he groaned, smiling anyway as he closed his eyes again. He yawned, nothing more than a little mewl as he tucked his arms underneath his head, mouth smothered in the crook of his elbow. “Starin’ at me like you always do. I’m not some specimen you can study while I’m not able to consent to the experiment.”

      Except he kind of was, Harry thought, because he had a baby inside of him that is so tiny that it didn’t even change the shape of Louis’ belly, not yet. Harry planned on studying him until Louis either figured it out for himself or until he got too large for the weight gain to be a result of overeating.

      God, Louis had _Harry’s_ baby inside of him, probably microscopic and nothing more than cells but there nonetheless, and Harry’s stomach tossed so violently at the thought that stars danced behind his eyes. He was drunk off of it.

      “Sorry, little omega,” he smirked, crawling over to the omega and gently resting his weight on top of him. He ignored Louis’ small complaints about his weight and stretched out along his back, kissing the top of his head. “How’d you sleep?”

      “You’re crushin’ me, you oaf,” Louis giggled, kicking his legs and squirming, and Harry eventually rolled over to lay beside him, opening his arm for Louis to move into his side. “I slept well,” he added, turning his head so he could bite at Harry’s bare chest, an action that didn’t hurt a single bit, and Harry thought that maybe Louis just needed to feel more of him; if not under his fingers, then under his teeth would suffice. “Better with you here, of course. I’m the best when you’re with me.”

      “That’s _right_ ,” Harry agreed with a bright smile, turning into Louis and wrapping himself around the smaller boy, nuzzling himself against his warm skin like Louis did so often with everything he so carefully picks for his nests. He let the palm of his hand slide along his belly underneath his shirt, and he _felt_ as desperately as he could without making the action obvious, fingertips dancing along the soft, plush skin as he draped his arm around his waist. Louis took an especially deep inhale, and he let it out almost like a sigh, and Harry ghosted his touch over his belly button as if, by some form of osmosis, he could tell just what was floating around, growing and thriving in and with Louis’ body.

      He was _so_ pregnant.

      “I’m going to clean up some,” Louis declared, and he slipped out of Harry’s hold a lot like he really hated having to do it. He clambered off of the bed and then began to teeter around their bedroom, dressed in nothing but a pair of briefs so dark, they made his tanned skin appear even more bronze. He had left clothes scattered about the room, some of them likely due to him picking through potential outfits fitfully during the week and the others having been rejected pieces for a nest. He picked them all up and folded them before setting them on the foot of the bed, joints cracking whenever he bent down only to pop once more when he stood upright.

     Harry sat up against the headboard and took to watching Louis again, offering nothing but a smile when the omega rolled his eyes and called him a creep. He watched the curve of his hips, the flex of his thighs, and the bend of his waist; he imagined his skin glowing even more than it did now, with his belly round as it served as a temporary home. The words crawled up Harry’s throat, and before he could stop himself, he said, “you look so beautiful, Louis. Even more than usual.”

      “Thank you,” Louis laughed, so bright, and he posed a little bit, popping one of his knees and turning a tad bit to the side. He rested his chin atop his shoulder while he batted his lashes at Harry, a blush staining his cheeks, because Harry had never _not_ been able to make his omega blush. “You’re pretty handsome yourself, my alpha.”

      Harry leaned forward, tugging his bottom lip between two fingers. “Call me crazy,” he began, eyes raking over Louis carefully, “but what if you were maybe pregnant, and that’s why you’re more beautiful than usual?”

      “You’re crazy,” Louis replied immediately with a scoff and a little smile, dropping out of his pose and occupying himself instead with folding a pair of grey trackies. “I’m not pregnant. I would know if you had me knocked up.” He held out his arms, shaking his hips. “I feel one hundred percent not pregnant.”

      “But you look so different,” Harry insisted with a pout. “You even _smell_ different.” Attempting to prove his point, he lifted Louis’ pillow and sniffed at it before holding it in the air in order to display it properly. It wasn’t like Louis would have been able to smell himself, since that generally wasn’t the case with omegas, alphas, or betas with their own unique, individual scents, but it was more than enough to get the message across in his own eyes. “Plus, come on, you told me you’ve been getting sick.”

      “Yeah, because I _missed you_ , Harry,” Louis said with a slight edge to his tone, tossing the track pants onto the bed among the pile of other articles of clothing. “It’s a little something called _stress._ Is that so hard to believe?”

      “I get that, baby, I do,” Harry smiled reassuringly, and Louis narrowed his eyes at him, clearly displeased. “But I just think it’s a possibility. I can feel it. Plus, it’s not like we haven’t been having sex.”

      “We would have been having a lot more of it if you came home on time,” Louis mumbled, his mood clearly having taken on a more annoyed edge, but it took all that Harry had to not smile _more_ , because his omega was cranky and easily ticked off and so _pregnant_ . “But you did _not_ , just like I’m _not_ pregnant, so.”

      “Okay, Lou.” Harry figured that he should set the thought aside, that it would be best for the both of them, and he did just that, holding his hands up in surrender. “I was wrong, I’m sorry.”

      “But you’re still going to think it, aren’t you? That I’m pregnant.” Louis crossed his arms over his chest. He stared at Harry for a few long moments, and then threw his hands up. “Whatever. We’re not talking about it. I’m going to go take a shower alone since I apparently look so different and _fat_.”

      “I literally _never_ said you were fat,” Harry said slowly, confused, and he watched as Louis stormed to gather things for the bathroom, hastily pulling out one of Harry’s shirts and an old pair of shorts. When the omega made an effort to leave the room, Harry got up and stumbled after him. “Lou, babe–”

      “You’re saying I’m pregnant, and pregnant people get fat when they’ve got a whole _baby_ in them,” Louis loudly explained, tearing his wrist free when Harry grabbed for it desperately. He made it out of their bedroom and all the way into the bathroom with Harry on his heels, and he was about to close the bathroom door on him before Harry stuck out a palm and held it back. Louis looked at Harry’s hand, and then back at his face, head tilted to the side. “Move, Haz,” he hissed, but he was still soft enough to call Harry by his nickname, so Harry thought that that was worth something. “I’m trying to be mad at you and you’re doing a shitty job at letting me.”

      “I don’t think you’re fat,” Harry whispered. “That’s not what I meant when I suggested that you might be pregnant. I guess I just got excited. I’m sorry, and I love you, and please don’t shower without me.”

      “I love you, too, but I’m still showering without you.” Louis suddenly bit his lips and shifted a little from where he stood barefooted on the bathroom tile, toes likely freezing. His face paled a little, and he looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I won’t be mad at you if you make me breakfast, though, maybe,” he suggested, his words rushed and small.

     “Okay.” Harry grinned. It was a fair truce. “Bacon and buttery toast?”

      Louis hiccuped and shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together. “God, no,” he squeaked. “Um. A smoothie, maybe? Lots of fruit?”

      “Of course.” Harry hummed and wrestled with another smile that would very quickly get him in trouble if he wasn’t careful. Louis was clearly taking care of himself a little better; fruit wasn’t normally something he suggested for breakfast without some form of encouragement. Part of Harry wanted to tease him about it with the risk of getting scolded again, but there were other matters to attend to, he quickly realized. “Do you feel sick?” he asked the second he noticed, keeping his tone as calm as he could manage, because Louis was looking green in the face, but was holding his ground regardless, and all Harry wanted to make clear was the fact that he was _there_ , always, even if Louis sometimes liked to be proud and independent. “Nauseous?”

      “Yeah,” Louis whispered, and pressed his hand on his stomach. “I gotta– I’m gonna throw up, now– not because I’m pregnant, but because you stress me out.” His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but it looked a little uneasy, like a little omega that didn’t feel well. “Got it?”

      “Got it,” Harry chuckled, backing away from the door. “Yell if you need anything, okay? And I’ll be right there.” Louis nodded hastily, hiccups again, and closed the bathroom door, the following sounds being that of him rushing over to the toilet and heaving, a woeful groan sounding afterwards.

       Harry felt a pang of heartache for his sick omega, but he made his way down the hall anyway, because he knew that Louis could handle himself and he knew that Louis would _rather_ handle himself at a time like this. He heard the shower turn on as he was scavenging for strawberries for Louis’ smoothie and he only hoped that the little one inside of him, what would one day be their little boy or girl, liked them, too.

       But he had learned his lesson from saying things like that out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smile, have a great day, bust a nut, do whatever makes you feel good, really


	3. three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back at school. I'm n my school library, and it smells like blueberry muffins, but I'm still not happy about any of it. Enjoy this little chapter.
> 
> Also happy one week anniversary Sia!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry ur life is a hurt/comfort angst fic right now, and we aren't actually married, but it's been a dope 7 days (EXACTLY ONE WEEK) and thank you for being a super cool pal.

      Louis didn’t let Harry talk about anything baby related for a week. He hardly even let Harry  _ call _ him baby; he got a weird feeling in his stomach whenever he heard the word, and different parts of his brain got into a fight every time that usually just left him with a headache. On the one hand, the idea of a baby was so terrifyingly exciting that all he wanted to do was think about it, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, didn’t want to entertain something if it wasn’t really there, didn’t want to let Harry down. Potentially breaking Harry’s heart was the thing that scared him the most.

      But he was tired of getting sick and he was tired in general, unable to get enough sleep, it seemed, even when he had Harry wrapped so snug around him that his heart fluttered consistently and he wasn’t able to move even if he tried, even if he  _ wanted to _ . He was tired of getting a prickly warm feeling every time Harry’s eyes lingered on his belly rather than on his actual face because _ they couldn’t be sure yet _ and Harry had no business telling him he was glowing because they hadn't even confirmed that there was actually something to give him a glow .

     It was a muggy Saturday morning when Louis left their apartment and walked to the corner store, wanting fresh air and warmth on his skin, even if said warmth made him feel a little stuffy. Harry was at the gym and would be for the next hour if Louis was to go by his typical schedule, so he felt fine and in no rush as he opened the door to the small convenience store, the bell chiming above his head as he gave a smile to the cashier at the front.

      His feet took him immediately to the back of the store, where several types of pregnancy tests were displayed on shelves that took up over half an aisle. There were far too many for Louis’ taste, and the diversity overwhelmed him a little, so he grabbed the first four his fingers touched and hastily made his way up to the cash register, keeping his eyes down low as the woman rang them up. She didn’t say anything, thankfully, and only told him to have a nice day with a special kind of gleam in her eyes as Louis hid his bag as best he could in his arms before leaving the store.

      Thirty minutes later he was in his bathroom, having just cleaned up pee from nearly  _ everywhere _ , with the four sticks all lined up on a paper towel that rested on the counter. He stared them all down, playing with the hem of his shirt, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

      The first one turned after two minutes. The other three followed suit almost directly after, the different brands wielding different symbols for the very same thing.

      Louis instantaneously grabbed his phone from the other side of the counter and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he called his mother. With the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder and with his arms wrapped around himself, he paced the length of the hallway while he waited for her to pick up.

      “Hello!” she greeted very quickly, with much relief to Louis’ sanity. “Good morning! Or, well, good afternoon!”

      “Hi, Ma,” Louis hummed. “I hope you’re well. Um, I just have a quick question? It’s no big deal, or anything, and it’s entirely out of curiosity, but how reliable are pregnancy tests?”

      Louis swore he could feel his mother’s smile through the phone. He had never been able to hide a single thing from her, and he didn’t know why he still tried. “I’d say they’re pretty reliable, but one should always go to the doctor for that final confirmation.”

      “Okay.” Louis looked back towards the bathroom door as if he had left something detrimental in there. The only important thing he needed, apparently, was already with him. “What if somebody bought, maybe, four? If they all managed to say yes, um, could the person be confident that they’re pregnant? Or should they still not get their hopes up?”

      “I’d be pretty confident,” Louis’ mother replied fondly. “But, again, always go to the doctor’s. They’ll also get you – or  _ someone _ – the vitamins they’ll need throughout the pregnancy.”

      “Okay. Cool.” Louis rubbed a hand across his belly; down over his abdomen, which looked no different from how his abdomen looked a month ago, a year ago. He had spent so long over the past week examining his size in the mirror while Harry wasn’t in the room before scolding himself for letting his thoughts wander. The thought of a tiny swell developing in the next several weeks excited him. “Uh. Another question, but about me: can I stop by a little later? Just for a little bit.”

      “Of course. I’d love for you to.”

      “Sweet.” Louis bounced on his heels. “Well, Harry’s going to be home soon, and I, uh, I’ve got something– I have to–”

      Louis’ mother chuckled, and it made him smile.  “Okay, I understand,” she said amusedly. “I’ll see you later, and I love you.”

      “I love you, too,” Louis whispered, struck with a very sudden, very intrusive, and very  _ unnecessary _ need to cry. It crashed over him with a force that left him breathless. “I’ll see you soon.”

      “And congratulations. I’m so happy. This is a huge moment for your  _ curiosity _ .”

      Louis laughed. It was a little wet.

      Harry came home a little after one. As soon as he opened the door, his overwhelming, rainy scent tumbled into the living room like a dam breaking, dissipating around the house and gracing it once more with the nicest smell in the entire world, the one thing that soothed Louis the most; especially now, even though Harry didn’t know it. Louis’ nerves were shot and his excitement was teetering on exponentially and uncontrollably high. With butterflies churning in his stomach, he exited the kitchen, lacing his fingers together in front of him.

      “Hey, you,” Harry said with a lopsided smile, one that Louis smothered away when he quickly pecked his lips. His arms snaked around Louis’ body, wrists settled on his hips, and Louis fell into his loose grasp. “I was only about fifty percent sure you’d be awake. You were fast asleep when I left.”

      “I was tired,” Louis chirped, hiding his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, even though it was salty and damp with sweat. He pressed a few dry kisses to the skin. “I made you a couple of turkey sandwiches. They’re in the kitchen.”

      Louis’ head was drawn away from Harry’s neck in favor of getting kissed again, something that Louis wasn’t entirely upset about, even though he much preferred marking Harry’s sweaty skin with something that could not be washed off so easy in the shower. “Thank you, my angel,” Harry whispered before he slipped away, retreating to the kitchen. “What have you been up to?”

      “Nothing, really.” Louis shrugged and rubbed his belly again, following Harry leisurely. “I went to the store today.”

      “We needed groceries?” Harry grabbed a sandwich and peered into it for its contents as he leaned against the counter. He took a bite and took a few seconds to chew, producing a toothless smile. “You should have told me. I would’ve gone with you.”

      “We’re fine on groceries,” Louis chuckled, hands coming together once more as he tugged at his fingers a little forcefully, because he was getting nervous now, and did not quite know how to go about breaking the news. “I actually went and bought a few pregnancy tests, which was a good time. I got a few odd looks.”

      “A  _ few _ ?”

      “Yeah, a couple of other customers and then the cashier, but–”

      “No, sweet omega, the, uh–” Harry had gone red in the face, eyes glossing over, and he laughed anxiously, a wheezing sort of sound, “the  _ tests _ . How many is a few?”

      Louis shrugged again, biting at the inside of his lip. “Four, I guess.”

      “Those are so expensive, Lou,” Harry chastised gently, but his smile had grown. Of course it had, and of course he was talking about the price of the tests over the results of them. “That’s, what, forty total? At least?”

      “Well, if you think  _ those _ are expensive, you’re going to  _ love _ learning how expensive raising a baby is going to be for us,” Louis muttered, looking down at his feet. He released his hands and instead patted them against the sides of his thighs, antsy in its truest form. “We’ve got a little less than nine months to figure that bit out, so, uh...we’d better start now?”

      “No fucking way.” Harry all but threw his sandwich onto the counter and grabbed Louis by the waist, tugging him into a hug. Louis laughed and wound his arms around Harry’s neck, holding him tightly and trying not to squirm as Harry kissed along his jaw, down his neck, nipping the skin. “Holy shit. Oh, you smell amazing. You’re pregnant, Lou? Are you really? You are, aren't you?”

      “Yes.” Louis grinned, closing his eyes. “Yeah, Harry. I just– just wanted to make sure, so we could really be excited, so I bought a bunch, since two is just a coincidence, and three is, you know, the charm, but I wanted another one just to make sure. Like a double charm. Even though– I know I shouldn’t have bought so many, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again if we have another baby. Oh, but we should get this one out first before we even consider...” He sniffed, clearing his rambling thoughts with a shake of his head, and Harry held him tighter, whispering something into his skin, something along the lines of  _ thank you _ that may not have been directed to only Louis. “Gonna go to the doctor’s office tomorrow, and I’ll only let you come with me if you  _ don’t _ say that you told me so.”

      “My baby is having a baby! We’re having a  _ baby _ ! Who cares what I told you?” Harry laughed brightly took Louis’ hand, extending his arm out. Louis twirled slowly underneath it, gripping Harry’s fingers tightly and shaking his hips in a little dance, and he was completely unopposed when Harry crowded into him again, pressing him gingerly against the refrigerator so he could kiss him once more. The alpha was sure to not miss the delighted tears that were slipping down Louis’ cheeks, and Louis appreciated it more than he could ever express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give this video a thumbs up if you enjoyed! subscribe, follow, and turn on post notifications every week to see more videos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> (I'm kidding, but you all are great)


	4. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three months along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, it's been a weird time, but there's nothing like writing about pregnancy that makes the world a little brighter. I hope you all have been doing well. Please enjoy!

_ month three  _

 

      Louis at eleven weeks pregnant was something that Harry would never be able to get enough of, and it was clear that the omega himself would never quite get enough of it, either, if Harry was to go by the occasional times that he found Louis standing in front of their bedroom mirror prodding at his skin, ghosting his fingers so delicately over the small swell of his belly before Harry poked his head in and caught him. Louis always reddened so sweetly, pulled his shirt back down his stomach, and mumbled a string of embarrassed remarks about how he had only been trying to see the growth of their baby even though it was hardly different from what it looked like when Louis ate a particularly large dinner.

      Harry was so deeply, so irrevocably, and so madly in love.

      Louis was oddly calm in the beginning of his pregnancy – since the day he had found out and carrying on to eleven weeks at the end of August, he was very mellow, unusually quiet and unusually low maintenanced. His high voice had settled into one that was in an almost  _ constant _ state of relaxation, and it concerned Harry up until he had researched it, soon finding out that not all pregnant people were hormonally unstable, angry one moment and upset the next and euphoric seconds after that. Some were gloriously at peace with themselves and their surroundings.

      Harry thought that Louis had gracefully fallen into that category.

      The omega hadn’t had school all summer, and whenever Harry had returned home from work, he often found him sitting out on their small patio, stretched out with his shirt pulled up his tummy and his head tilted back toward the gleaming sky. All the sunbathing had turned his skin a beautiful tan, which Harry adored, knowing that no matter how golden Louis got, he would still be able to mark the sweet omega up just the same at the end of the night.

      When Harry came home early one evening when the sun was still sinking lethargically on the horizon, Louis was in the same spot he never seemed to leave, tucked up in a lawn chair they’d gotten at a yard sale with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed. He didn’t stir when Harry catcalled to let him know he had arrived, and he didn’t flinch when Harry met him on the patio with the glass door sliding to a rattly close behind him, offering up only a single hum when Harry bent down to kiss his cheek in greeting.

      “You smell like work,” Louis murmured, repositioning his neck on the lawn chair so that it was innocently bared, but he still didn’t open his eyes. His head was tilted to reveal the side of his neck with the scar positioned just a couple of inches below his ear, the skin pinker than the rest of him. Harry tried not to touch it; Louis had always been sensitive there, and was maybe even more so, now, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was throw a wrench in his tranquil state of mind.

      “That’s what happens when you go to work, typically,” Harry retorted, dropping down into a squat that threatened the seams of his dress pants. “You tend to smell like it.” His comment was one that would usually would have given Louis an attitude and one that would also have given Harry a few nasty words in his ears, but Louis only hummed again, the corner of his mouth easing into a lazy smile as he said:

      “You’re right.”

      He was no feisty omega, hadn’t been for weeks, and Harry still had to get used to the exchange of something hot and stinging to something so soft and iced down. He took Louis’ right hand in both of his own and kissed the cool back of it, eyes trained on his lover’s stagnant face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, watching a breeze flick at Louis’ hair. “How was your day?”

      “I feel just fine.” Finally, Louis opened his eyes and looked down at Harry, his eyes a beautiful, sparkling blue. Soft rings of purple rested under them, due to nights of insufficient sleep, but Louis didn’t ever complain about it. He napped often during the day, Harry knew, tucked up on their couch with the television playing softly in the background. “My day was the same.”

      “You stayed out here?” Harry jerked his head towards the open air. The sky was purple now, with streaks of orange like the summer evening that it was. The sun was slipping away, but the moon was more than ready to take its place, bobbing in the far corner of the sky, nothing more than a cream-colored shape so small, it could have been a star. “You didn’t get too hot, did you? You’ve been hydrated?”

      Louis closed his eyes again as if he was bored, and he might have been. Harry knew that he didn't particularly like being nagged. “I went inside when it got hot. I’ve had four bottles of water so far, so I’ve become well acquainted with our bathroom.” His lips quirked up again.

      Harry laughed, squeezing Louis’ hand after pressing another kiss to his fingers, which then curved up to cup his jaw like they knew where to go without Louis even having to look. They knew each other inside and out, at this point, and that was one of the many, many beautiful things that Harry loved about  _ them _ . “Have you gotten sick?”

      “Once after breakfast and almost again after I tried to make a sandwich at noon.” He inhaled deeply, his free hand resting against his bare stomach, his thumb at work with gentle strokes while the rest of his fingers remained unmoving. There was only the ghost of a bump underneath the skin, something only noticeable if one knew that Louis was pregnant. Nevertheless, it was there, and the first time Louis had discovered it, he had screamed and refused to put a shirt on for the entire day. “Pickles don’t sit well with me right now, I don’t think.”

      “And you  _ love _ pickles,” Harry says with another soft laugh.

      “I do, but I love our pea more.” He opened his eyes again, but only a little bit, appearing so blissful. “I just hope our pea lets me eat what I want soon.”

      “Do you want something now?” Already anticipating an affirmative answer, Harry stood up straight, pecking Louis’ lips and letting go of his hand. “We’ll get you a snack and I’ll start on dinner. Do you want to head inside?”

      “Sure.” Louis got up easily, his shirt falling over his belly as he crossed his arms loosely over his chest. He followed Harry inside, and once they were in the kitchen, he pushed himself up to sit on the counter, his bare heels knocking against the cabinets below him as he reached into the fruit bowl that sat a foot beside him. There were only two bananas left, since he had been eating them with a vengeance and had torn through two bunches in two days, but he took his time plucking one, turning it around in his fingers before peeling it open and taking a bite. “Do we have any more caramel sauce?”

      It was kind of gross, Louis’ specific and unyielding craving for bananas with caramel sauce, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, so Harry was happy to get it out of the fridge and toss it to Louis, who shifted his hips contently and focused on dribbling the sticky brown goo onto the banana. He took another bite of it and rolled his eyes back, humming as he chewed.

      “How was work?” he inquired while drizzling another copious amount of sweet sauce onto his fruit, looking up at Harry through his lashes. He talked with his mouth mostly full, but then swallowed. “Miss me?”

      “As much as I always do.” Harry settled between Louis’ parted thighs, hands splayed on his sweatpants-clad knees as he leaned forward to kiss Louis’ forehead. “Work wasn’t too bad. Slower than most days. Are you nervous for school starting next week?”

      “Nope.” Louis grinned and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, heels digging into his lower back. “I feel good about it. It’s gonna be a great year.”

      “Why is that?” Harry slid his hands up Louis’ thighs, thumbs pressing into the insides of them, which made Louis raise a suggestive eyebrow. “Because a certain someone will have maternity leave in March? Because  _ another _ certain someone will finally be here, crying their little eyes out twenty-four-seven?”

      “That’s possibly why,” Louis laughed, taking another bite of his banana. He chewed, and then licked a gob of caramel off the side of his lip. “Can we have sex tonight?”

      “What?”

      Louis shrugged, swallowed. “Bananas are good aphrodisiacs. I’ve been eating them all day and  _ something’s _ got to give.”

      Harry cupped the sides of Louis’ face and drew his head up, kissing him briefly. He tasted so nice, like too sweet candy sauce and then, of course, what had always been just  _ him _ . “Yes, we most definitely can.”

      “Are you okay with doing all of the work?” Louis’ voice had dropped to a husky whisper as he dragged his mouth over Harry’s, kissing him with short, playful pecks before he leaned back and took another bite of his banana, dangling the now-empty peel between two fingers.

      “Don’t I always?” Harry laughed.

      “Wow.” Louis nodded his head slowly, a goofy smile making its way onto his full mouth. Before Harry could reveal that he had only been kidding, Louis was batting at his chest, swatting him away so he could slide off of the counter with a gentle slap of his feet on the tiled floor. “Just for that, you get to do  _ nothing _ , so great job setting yourself up for that one.”

      Harry followed his sweet, pregnant omega as he sauntered out of the kitchen, turning him around and catching him around the middle, hoisting him up into his arms before he even knew what was happening. With a laugh, Louis wrapped his legs around his hips, arms throwing themselves over Harry’s shoulders. Harry was met with a slew of sugary kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and neck as he carefully carried his cargo down the hall and into their bedroom. “Sex now, dinner later,” he eloquently phrased.

      “Good thing I had a snack,” Louis sighed.

      (Louis was calmer, now, but just as lazy.

      Harry still did all of the work.

      He really didn’t mind it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate you all :)


	5. five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi. Still having a rough time. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and all of your kudos' and comments mean the absolute world to me.

_five months_

 

      Harry couldn’t find him. Louis _knew_ that Harry couldn’t find him, could hear him pacing quite noisily up and down the hallway as he called his name, but Louis didn’t budge, gaze fastened on the naked wall in front of him. Shadows passed across it every so often, making odd shapes against the fresh, white paint, and at any other time, Louis would have been spooked. He was perfectly at ease, however, hands cradling his belly each time the little one inside of it shifted with restlessness. The baby’s inability to sleep had a direct correlation to Louis’, but he was awfully used to it by now, so much that it was starting to concern his doctor, so much that he was starting to have to constantly keep a watch on his energy.

      “Lou?” Harry’s voice was right outside the bedroom door, but it was early, and he was clearly sleepy, so Louis knew that it would likely not behoove the alpha to check the spare room for him, not yet. Louis turned to look over his shoulder, eyeing the closed door, and after taking a few slow moments to take a deep breath, he called:

      “Harry, honey, come.”

      Harry was in the bedroom in an instant, throwing the door open so that it slammed back against the wall directly beside it. Louis flinched, and darted his eyes towards the wall that the door had smacked off of. “Louis, why are you--?”

      Louis closed his eyes. “Shh, you’re too loud,” he whispered, with his stomach shifting again as if to confirm that, yes, Dad was being far too loud. Louis tiptoed his fingers across the swell of his skin, goosebumps rising because Harry opening the door had brought in a cool breeze from the unit in the hallway. The nursery was very warm. “Couldn’t sleep. Trying to settle. Come sit with me.”

      “It’s three in the morning, sweet boy,” Harry reasoned as if Louis was not aware, voice significantly lower, thankfully. He dropped himself onto the carpet anyway, crawling towards Louis and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He pulled him back against his chest, enveloping him with a sleep-warm T-shirt and a sluggish, relaxed rise and fall of his chest. Louis curled up into him, tilting his head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. “How long have you been in here? I woke up and you weren’t beside me. Almost lost my mind. We’ve got work in the morning.”

      “Got up at two. Didn’t want to wake you with my rolling around. I’ll go back to sleep and will be fine for work.” Harry’s hands closed over his own, and Louis moved his away, reaching around to grab the back of Harry's neck so he could tug him down for a quick kiss. He scratched his fingernails along the nape of Harry’s neck, and Harry produced a small, comfortable rumble in his throat. “You can go back to bed. I’m fine in here. Just hanging out.”

      “I can tell,” Harry chuckled. “You’ve got a bit of a nest started, huh?”

      Louis nodded, looking around him. Even through the dark, a nest was in sight and _quite_ a sight, dozens of blankets and both his and Harry’s clothes sitting around in a bit of a circle, a bit of a mountain. Louis had added the gifts they had slowly started to receive for the baby to it, including small swaddling blankets and tiny stuffed animals, little sweaters and coats because they were due at the middle of March, when it was still cold. The nest was in the middle of what would very soon be their completed nursery; all they needed was to put the crib together and get a few decorations, as well as stock the drawers and closet. It was almost finished, and Louis now spent most of his time in the room, just not usually in the middle of the night. “I want to be where the baby will be,” Louis explained, swallowing a yawn. “Have to make sure the room is full of me.”

      “The baby is always with you,” Harry whispered, pressing his words into Louis’ temple, smothering them there for safekeeping, a constant reminder. “He’s with you forever. And he is on the crib, apparently.”

      Louis snorted, looking over to the crib box, which had all of the baby’s sonograms taped to the cardboard. Louis hadn’t liked how the room was so empty, and he felt as if it would feel fuller with _some_ fraction of a kid between its walls, so all of his grainy photographs from his doctor’s visits were on the box, and would likely be framed when the baby arrived. One of them had a dark circle of permanent marker on the baby’s lower half, right between two tiny legs; when Louis’ obstetrician had told them that the baby was a boy, Louis had cried into his hands, and Harry had taken it upon himself to make it clear where the determining biological factor was on their baby.

      “He’s with _us_ ,” Louis corrected, resting his hands atop Harry’s and lacing their fingers together as best he could. What Louis knew to be a kick fell to the left of his belly button, an action that felt a lot like a series of bubbles popping. “He loves your voice.”

      “Does he?” Harry hummed a few notes, swaying gently from side to side and taking Louis with him. “Our little Duke loves my voice?”

      “He _doesn’t_ love the name Duke. Duke is what you name a dog, not a child.”

      “You call him Pea. Is that really much better?”

       Louis furrowed his eyebrows, whining quietly. “Harry,” he warned. “Be nice. I’m sleepy and my feet hurt and I’ll start crying, you know that.”

      “I do know that, and I’m sorry.” Harry brushed his nose against the side of Louis’ neck, scenting him casually. “Have you thought any more about names? I was thinking about Cooper or maybe Henry.”

      “Cooper is cute,” Louis murmured, rolling the name around on his tongue. “Cooper Tomlinson-Styles. I don’t know why you’re insisting on giving our son a dog’s name, but Cooper is better than Duke, so.”

      “Cooper is not a dog’s name.” Harry nipped at Louis’ ear, but Louis' mind could not be changed. “Now, come to bed with me. I’ll put you both to sleep in ten minutes.”

      Louis grunted, slipping his hands away from Harry’s. He took one last look around the still, quiet room. “Okay, but you’ve got to carry me. I’m not getting up.”

      “Of course.” Harry stood up behind Louis, tucked his arms underneath his armpits, and hoisted him upright. Rather than scooping him up, though, he merely started to tug him out of the room, the back of Louis’ heels scooting along the carpet, the sensation a mere tickly, hot feeling on the bottom of his feet.

      “I can’t believe you’re _dragging_ me!” Louis said incredulously, but he was laughing, head thrown back to smile at his alpha. Harry smiled at him in return, the expression perfectly mellowed in the darkness of the early hour. Louis squirmed, kicking his legs out. “So this is how you really feel about me? I saw it coming, really.”

      “I’m sure you did. I despise you. Can’t _stand_ you. I'm surprised that I could hide it for this long.” Once they were at their bed, Harry helped Louis into it, stretching him out on his back atop the cotton sheets. He climbed over him, hovering carefully, and bent down to kiss his forehead, his lips leaving a wet mark as they traveled down his nose to his lips. They kissed for a short while, smiles hidden between caresses of their mouths. “My stunning omega,” Harry whispered, his tone a drastic change to the banter before. “You’re so tired. It radiates off of you. I want nothing more than to relieve some of it from you.”

      “It’s okay,” Louis drawled, blinking up towards the ceiling when Harry’s head disappeared, the alpha shifting down to his stomach after pressing a breezy kiss over his heart. Louis giggled when he felt the first kiss to the skin of his belly, wriggling his toes before raising his knees and trapping Harry between his thighs. “I sleep enough to get me by.”

      “And you never complain,” Harry murmured, voice even more far away, now. “I mean, you do, you’re a little complainer, but never about carrying our baby. You’re so good at it. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I was put on Earth just to be a part of it, to go through this beautiful process with you.”

      “Thanks.” Louis’ voice was a little tight, and his eyes burned a little bit, so he closed them and cleared his throat, fingers tangling in Harry’s curls. “I love you.”

      “I love you, too, little omega.” He kissed Louis’ belly again, and his next words were spoken right against the skin. “And I love you, little Pea. We are so excited for you.”

      “He’s not moving much anymore,” Louis said gleefully, though drowsiness lulled him in deep. “Keep talking.”

      Harry did. Most of what he said went unheard in Louis’ ears, since he was being so quiet, and also since Louis didn’t have enough consciousness to pay attention. A few long minutes later, heat was all around him, and the weight of the bed was redistributing as Harry very cautiously made his way back back to the head of the bed to join Louis once more.

      “How about the name Everett?” Louis suggested, rolling over onto his side and rocking back just a bit when Harry settled behind him. His words were a jumbled string of muted sounds, but Harry seemed to understand, for he stroked a hand over Louis’ abdomen and pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear, their legs tangling up together. Harry kept one large hand right at the top of Louis’ stomach.

      “Everett is so beautiful,” Harry said into the night, among steady heartbeats and downy, encompassing sheets. It was a perfect three A.M. declaration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> question: how would you guys feel about potentially writing a third part to this series, but more focused on the baby as he grows up?


	6. six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii all! Hope you've been well. Here's another tid bit into the lives of these two. be on the lookout for another (hopefully) detailed fic that will be longer and more in depth, for sure. Please enjoy :)

_ month seven _

       Louis cried at his baby shower. He’d been inconsolable, shivery and hiccupy as he sat among his closest friends and family, with box after box of little things for the baby sitting around them, singing mobiles and decorated bottles and so many little onesies, each with intricately woven feet and flaps to go over the hands. Everyone had looked to Harry with nervous smiles, because they hadn’t quite known why Louis was sobbing so hysterically, but Harry had only chuckled and waved it off, because Louis had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and it wasn’t his fault that the pregnancy brought his heart to the palm of his hand.

      Louis waddled around the house, now, which they both loved to tease. While his body betrayed him most days, giving him heartburn and an upset stomach and aching limbs, Louis fought through it with nothing more than multiple silent, hot baths and nachos, both of which were new developments that he had began to _live_ for, sometimes combining both habits, only to drop nacho cheese into the tub.

      But Louis was still so beautiful, and Harry made sure that the omega didn’t forget it. He was glowing more than ever, stretch marks spreading few and far between like lightning bolts on the sides of his stomach and along the backs of his thighs. Harry spent every evening before bed kissing them and rubbing lotion into them, often until it put Louis to sleep.

      All they had to do was wait for the baby. Louis didn’t have nearly as many doctor’s appointments in the last trimester than he did in the first two, so it was now just up to Louis to serve as a temporary home for the rest of their baby’s stay; Harry went on walks with him to keep his blood circulating properly, and helped him rush to the bathroom when his bladder shrank to the size of a pin, going out in the late hours to get him fast food when the omega woke up craving a burger or fries.

      The nursery was finished, and Louis’ nest was in the center of the room, set to remain there until some time after the birth of the baby. He slept there most nights, and wasn’t always the fondest of Harry joining him, just like he had been when he was seventeen and hiding his nests from Harry out of sheer protection. Sometimes, though, when he was too tired to protest, Harry settled beside him anyway, and watched the omega stare quietly at a light blue stuffed elephant before his eyes finally closed.

      He was a bit of a mynx this late in the pregnancy, though, tanned skin stretched tight around a round stomach, sexy and aware of it, and that  _ did _ something to Harry, which was why he currently had the omega against their bedroom wall, his shaking legs parted and his body bent so that his belly didn’t press uncomfortably against the wall. He’d toyed with Louis’ nipples until he was sobbing, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and losing themselves in his collarbones, chest rising and falling as he’d struggled to push Harry’s fingers, and then his mouth, away from his aching chest. He’d only just caught his breath, nipples bright red and pained.

      “Okay?” Harry asked, biting the word into the back of Louis’ neck, which caused Louis to breathe out a moan and curl his fingers against the wall, his nails only scraping the paint, not a chip left in their wake. Harry wrapped his left arm around Louis’ stomach while his opposite hand worked two fingers into Louis, curving them upwards gently and pulling every tremor out of him so slowly.

      “Yeah,” Louis breathed, turning to look over his shoulder, mouth falling open and legs jerking when Harry crooked his fingers up just right. Harry couldn’t imagine being up against the wall being the most pleasing position in the world, but Louis got crabby anywhere else; on his back was too much pressure, on his side was too  _ weird _ , and sitting in Harry’s lap was more work than he apparently wanted to do. This sufficed, with Harry crowding him against the wall, and the alpha pressed a series of kisses across the span of his shoulders. “Another? Please?”

      Harry only hummed in answer, fitting a third finger in easily alongside the other two. He stretched Louis out slowly despite Louis’ little whimpers against the plaster of the wall, and leaned down to graze his teeth over their bond mark, which caused the omega to tremble in his hold. “C’mon, pretty omega,” Harry encouraged, sinking his teeth a little deeper into his neck. He wouldn’t break the skin, wouldn’t  _ need _ to. Louis would fall apart just the same. “Let me feel you come on my fingers before you do it again on my cock.”

      Louis gasped, reaching down to touch himself, fingers fumbling before he released onto himself, body sagging forward against the wall with a wail. Harry was quick to haul him back up, an arm tight around him, rubbing his skin in comfort.

      “Good boy, you’re good, perfect,” Harry reassured, smiling when the omega turned his head again to kiss him, biting at his lips messily. Harry kissed him back with as much heat, fitting his cock against the omega’s entrance and sliding in effortlessly, holding his shaking hips still. He looked down to watch Louis take him, body opening up so nicely, soft and hot, pink rim stretched snug around his length.

      “Oh, fuck,” Louis cried through gritted once Harry had settled completely, head falling forward, the back of his neck exposed for Harry to sink his teeth into. His moans were shaken out of him as Harry began thrusting forward, gentle but steady. “Yeah, H, gimmie your big knot, fuck me.”

      Their baby had working ears now, but now wasn’t the time to bring that up.

 

//

      On Louis’ last day of work before he took his maternity leave, he came home sobbing, clutching his bag in his arms as he nudged the door closed before leaning back against it. Harry had worked from home the entire day, and when the silence of their apartment was bombarded with the anguished cries of his omega, he was beside himself, getting up from the couch and making his way over to the door where Louis stood weeping.

      “What happened?” was his first question, frantically asked, and he eased Louis’ bag out of his grasp and onto the carpet, bringing the man into his arms where he kissed his head, hushing him with a low growl in his throat. “You’re going to tire yourself out, little omega, breathe.”

       Louis heaved a large breath, but it fell out in a sob. “My students,” he whined, clutching the back of Harry’s shift, drawing him nearer. A hot wave of anger flashed within Harry, rising like a wave, at the thought of any of Louis’ students saying something awful about him. Such a wave subsided quickly, though, because Harry knew that everyone loved Louis almost as much as he did. _Almost._  “They-- they-- my  _ bag _ .”

      "Alright, Lou, okay, here. Sit down.” Harry helped Louis sit on the carpet, and Harry sat with him, dragging his bag into his lap and opening it. Inside was a crumpled green gift bag, and upon pulling it out, a few slips of folded notebook paper spilled out into his lap.

      “Don’t  _ lose them _ ,” Louis hissed, scrambling to pick them up. “They wrote-- they wrote notes for the baby, just for him, Harry, they’re  _ so _ \--!” He shuddered with a fresh series of sobs, and Harry pulled him into his chest, chuckling quietly.

     “I’ll read them out loud,” he whispered.

 

_ Hi Everett, some girl in our class said a good gift for your dads would be life advice for you, so I’m going to tell you that high school will only suck if you think you’re the coolest and that you don’t need anyone. It’s always good to have a friend. _

 

_ Everett! I asked your dad if your middle name could be something cool like Razor, and he said no and threatened to fail me (he was kidding, he’s super cool), but maybe it can be your nickname. My advice: have a cool nickname. _

 

_ Dear Everett, my advice to you is to listen to what your dad says, because he’s literally always right. Even when he’s not, just say he is. _

 

_ Everett, you have a cute name. I can’t wait to see pictures of you once you’re born. My advice: be yourself. You’re the only you that you have. _

 

_ Dear Everett, your parents love you a lot, I can tell. Before they even know who you are, they would do anything for you, and don’t forget that even if they take your car keys away because you have a D in math like my parents did. _

 

_ Everett, have fun being born! _

 

_ Dear Everett, I think you’re going to be the luckiest baby on Earth with parents who love you as much as yours do.  _

 

_ To Everett: one day you’re going to find a really cool alpha or beta or omega and you’ll be head over heels for them, and your parents will get annoyed with you because you stay up all night talking to them, but love cannot be swept aside and when done right, loving them should be the easiest thing. _


	7. seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! very short bit, very last bit. Thank you to absolutely everyone and this isn't the last of my stupid self. enjoy!!!

      Everett Joseph Tomlinson-Styles was born on March nineteenth at five-thirty in the morning, with Harry’s skin pale from watching the doctors scoop out his omega’s insides, and with Louis anxiously waiting behind the large blue tarp stretched over his chest, oblivious to what exactly was happening but familiar enough with the concept of Cesarean sections that he knew his alpha needed a little comfort, too. The labor itself had been rather effortless, nerve-wracking but manageable, so many emotions welled up within both parents that all they could do when their son wailed his first breath was cry themselves, laughing through tears and exclamations of joy because  _ they did it _ .

      They brought him home from the hospital three days later wrapped in a baby blue blanket with a cap pulled over his head, tiny fingertips twitching each time Louis looked in the rearview mirror at his boy. And Harry looked at Louis, and they looked at each other, tired smiles brighter than the sun itself, blue and green and tall and short and dimples and smirks having come together to create something small and new in the backseat of their car. It was their own and it was forever, undeniably them, wielding _them_ in a way that no one could ever take away.

     Everett had hair like Louis’, chestnut brown and wispy, but his eyes were a beautiful green that melted into hazel, a dimple popping into his cheek each time he fed from his bottle, which was more times in a day than Harry could have ever expected for a seven pound, one ounce baby. When he cried, he was so loud, and it was Harry’s turn to not get any sleep, because he stayed up whenever his omega did, and they sat together in the nursery, half asleep and holding their baby tight so as to never let him go.

      It was easy. It was  _ hard _ ; when they fought because they were both tired and the baby wouldn’t stop being so  _ sad _ , it was difficult, and when Louis stormed from the house with their baby to sleep at his mother’s for the night, it was rough, but they always came back together at the end of one day or sometimes three, because their love had become one the day they’d met in the high school bathroom, and had only grown as they had. It had persisted when they’d gone to college because that was what love did, especially on the nights when finals were coming up and it was hard to see any future together in sight when there were mountains of school work in front of them. It was  _ hard _ , but love itself was easy, was the only thing turning the world around on its axis so smoothly. 

      Harry didn’t always like Louis. Louis didn’t always like Harry. Sometimes Everett didn’t like either of them, spitting up on their chests or putting up a fight when it came to changing or getting fed. But before any of them ever went to sleep on their worst nights, Louis grumbled that he loved Harry, and Harry kissed him so softly in return, and Everett blurted out a babyish giggle or an adoring coo, and it all became the easiest thing.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on Tumblr if you want @ elysianrain and tell me how you really feel!!!!!


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